Quotes from Karen Chance

But then I found out that somebody, probably the damned guards, had drunk all the beer, and that was the last straw. So I was hermiting inside my tent with an attitude and the last piece of food in the place. Because there are certain things even a troll won't eat.

The upshot was that the house had become a little . . . eccentric . . . over the years, almost like it had a mind of its own. Or a personality, anyway. Specifically, that of a crotchety old woman who didn't like people messing with her stuff.

I thought I was doing a fair job of passing myself off as a typical Celt," he added, "when hey, presto! No cloak! And a moment after that, no trousers! And no underwear! They used some spell to strip me butt naked, in the middle of the damn road, looking for weapons I didn't even have because of your constant nagging about the timeline. They even took my last shoe!

Once a group decides that their way is the only way, it is an easy progression to vilifying anyone who doesn't agree with them. And once someone has been demonized, has been characterized as opposing the good, killing him becomes a virtue.

I shifted back onto the plane, fuming, and a ghost popped in. That wouldn't normally require comment, as it happens to me all the time—one of the annoyances of being clairvoyant. But this was a little different since this ghost I knew.

I ate it all, washed down by a good English beer, except for the tongue, although I eyed even that. After all, it was just beef, right? But I couldn't do it. Tasting something that might be tasting me back freaked me out.

one of the reasons witches were often depicted with a broom was because women had traditionally been the main brewers of ale and beer, which were stirred with a besom—a bundled broom. When hung over the door or window of an ale house, it showed the street that a new batch was ready. Likewise, the pointed hats associated with witches came from the habit in earlier times of alewives wearing them at market to be seen over the crowd, so that thirsty types would know where to go.

There are a thousand ways to die," he told me quietly. "There are so few to really live. I would gladly risk the former for the latter, and it is my choice, is it not? To risk whatever I must, my heart, my body, my soul, in order to be with you. Is that not what love is?

thought they might have wondered off somewhere.

My lord...I can explain-," Louis-Cesare began, looking less than certain that he could do anything of the kind. Radu held up a hand. "I am sure there is a perfectly good reason why my niece is naked and tied to her bed. I am also equally certain that I do not wish to hear it".

I wasn't entirely sure, but a polite John Pritkin might be a sign of the apocalypse.

He wasn't that good looking, he had the social skills of a wet cat and the patience of a caffeinated hummingbird

I'd have been dead a long time ago if not for my friends, one of whom had just jumped off the cliff after me. I'd have been a lot more appreciative if he hadn't pushed me first." ~Cassandra Palmer

No, Miss Palmer. What is bizarre is that I currently have a vagina .

Pritkin kissed like he did everything else, straightforward, accepting no prisoners and with an intensity that left me breathless. It was hot and hard and desperate, like he was starving for it, and I opened my mouth and took it, because, God .

I was alive, they were not. Go Me. (Touch the Dark)

I'm tired, I'm hungry and I have a head in a bag," I warned him. "Do not fuck with me.

We're going jogging." "I don't run for recreation. I run when someone's after me with a weapon." "That can be arranged

How the hell do you think I feel?" I don't want to end up inside a woman!" He paused. "Well, at least not that way

He had the look of an atheist who'd just had a visit from God: stunned, disbelieving and faintly ill.

Think you can maybe not die for five minutes?" "I'll try,"I told him seriously. "You know, if anyone else said that, it would be funny.

My sometimes friend, sometimes enemy, all the time pain in the ass.

Not really hungry." "She'll eat." Pritkin said curtly. "I said —" "If you starve to death it would damage my professional reputation." "I eat plenty." "The same does not apply should I strangle you in understandable irritation, however." "I'll have a sandwich," I told Nick. "No meat.

Great. I'd been dumped in Hell's waiting room.